


An Unsolicited Lesson in Occlumency

by inaspectus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-10-24 22:00:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17712383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inaspectus/pseuds/inaspectus
Summary: The war is over. Enemies have become friends, and peace is abound. Those who have decided to further their education have been given an extra year at Hogwarts to do so, and among those students are one Draco Malfoy and one Harry Potter. As a peace offering, Harry has offered to teach Draco how to defend his mind. However with the weight of the wizarding world in stress lifted off of his "teacher's" shoulders, Draco finds himself at the mercy of a new, more relaxed Harry. One who seems to be quite the troublesome prankster. Maybe this peace offering wasn't as innocent as it first seemed. Maybe Draco doesn't mind.





	1. Sleepless Night

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in a hell of a long time, so I'm just dipping my toes in. I'm publishing this first half of an incomplete one-shot to see if anyone would be interested in seeing the rest. Please let me know with your kudos and comments! If there's enough interest, I'll be sure to finish it off in another chapter (and eventually combine the two).
> 
> For the record, Harry and Draco are both over 18.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

It was nights like these, Draco conceded, that left him with so much pent-up rage in the daytime towards... _him_.

Nights like these, in which his mind was filled with flashes of skin, the glinting of too-white teeth, muscle flexing and tightening beneath those too-tight muggle “sports” shirts that prat insisted on wearing to Quidditch practice... The blonde groaned, throwing himself face-first into his pillows and grabbing a fistful of his own hair.

Why him? Of all people? If people like Professor Snape were to believed, it was like being a prick had been ingrained into his genetics.

 _Harry Potter,_ Draco thought dryly, his face taking up a rather ugly sniveling expression into the pillows as he wordlessly mouthed the loathed name. _Saviour of all Wizardkind, where would we be without him?_

The Slytherin rolled onto his back, releasing the grip on his hair in the process, as his scalp was practically screaming by this point.

 _Bet you wish Potter was here to do that for you._ The thought served only to taunt him, but he felt a twinge in his abdomen nonetheless.

When had this awful nightmare began for Draco? Well, he could lie and pretend it only happened after the war. Potter saved everybody, made efforts to keep peace with former offenders (who hadn't committed any proper crimes, of course- being that he was pressured into Voldemort's circle by family, after some lengthy and costly legal battles, Draco was eventually acquitted of any wrongdoings and sent back to Hogwarts with the rest of the students in his year who had yet to graduate). This, naturally, and most importantly publicly, had to include the remaining innocent Malfoys.

Draco could deceive himself and others into believing that this was the first time he felt any genuine positive emotion towards Harry; no malice nor indignation towards the boy, because all was right and they could be _friends_ now. It's not as if it wouldn't be believable to outsiders. In fact, most of the students didn't believe there was any sort of resolution between the two, being that they offered at most a curt nod to each other if they accidentally made eye contact in the corridors.

However, if only a little bit, a feeling of curiosity had struck him from the beginning. He could recall the feelings of misgiving about the supposed enemy in the form of a shy, directionless eleven year old, not unlike Draco himself. The moment he'd realized who it was he had met in the robe shop those 7 long years ago, up to the confrontation in the train and then on the stairs up to the Hogwarts dining hall, he was left with nothing but mixed emotions. Maybe a little bit of anger at being rejected, definitely planted hatred at this boy who had _supposedly_ ruined everything just by existing, and yet always just a dash of curiosity, even confusion.

As they grew, this confusion followed suit, almost consuming him. Draco treated Harry like shit, that was a given. But how else could he have reacted, being so wrapped up in his own misguided emotions, especially when confusion had started to evolve into something deeper? Something more captivating? Something absolutely determined to fuck him over and strip away his pride?

Draco would never tell. If he couldn't even properly tell himself, _never,_ in a million years, would he ever tell _Potter_ of all people.

However, under rather unfortunate circumstances, he didn't have to.

_Thinking about me again?_

Draco winced, breaking from his thoughts in an instant while he desperately tried to empty his mind.

 _The damage is done, Draco._ The voice in his head taunted, smirk evident in its tone. _Can't obliviate me from all the way down in your bed. Not right now, at least. And you'd better believe I'm writing this down in my “times Draco stayed up into the wee hours of the night to think about me” journal._

Groaning, Draco sat up in his bed, holding his face in his hands. _Remind me again why I agreed to your Occlumency lessons, Potter?_

After the whole debacle with the Dark Lord, it seemed Harry's skills in Occlumency and Legilimency had improved tenfold. In earnest, or so he thought, Draco accepted the Gryffindor's offer to help him learn the valuable skills himself, especially in the aftermath of the war. Naturally, he and his family were on closer watch than ever before. But it's not as if he had anything to hide- Draco (and many others) just wanted to be able to maintain some semblance of privacy, especially when not everyone out there skilled in the arts of mind-reading had pure, world-defending intentions. The end of the war hadn't taken wizard gossip with it, unfortunately.

 _This is why,_ Harry drawled into Draco's mind, _You never really know who's listening._

_You are, Potter. You're listening, because you're a prick._

Suddenly, without warning, Draco's surroundings were no longer his own. Instead of being in the comfort of velvety emerald curtains draped around his four-poster, he found himself engulfed in the overwhelming warmth of gold and maroon drapery. However, he wasn't _really_ there. To his surprise and slight excitement, he found himself looking down at a body that was also not his own, from the eyes of another.

Harry's chest was bare, his golden skin practically glowing in the low lights he had produced for the occasion. He was wearing bottoms (thank Merlin for that), but they were slung low and invitingly on his hips at just the right height to drive Draco mad.

A hand slipped slowly, tantalizingly, to trace along Harry's exposed hipbones, dipping slightly into the waistband of his trousers before Draco found his consciousness was zapped back into his own body in his comparatively cold, dark, and dreary dormitory.

“Damn,” he hissed softly to himself, clapping a hand to his mouth as quickly as he could. Beyond his bed-curtains, he heard what sounded like Zabini make a soft noise, which Draco desperately hoped had been produced in the other boy's sleep.

 _You want to see more?_ Harry's next taunt didn't take long to arrive.

Draco had to hold back a snort, picturing how his night would go: writhing around his bed to the thought of none other than _Harry fucking Potter_ , stroking himself to the that arrogant bastard until he came into his sheets, and the humiliation that would follow when his hormones died down and he realized what he had just done.

Wait... Oh, fuck. Oh fuck no, no. No.

 _Oh fuck is right,_ Harry's voice in his head came differently this time; it was strained, bravado knocked down a few notches.

Had Draco seriously just showed him the mental image of himself masturbating to Harry (literally _to_ him as well), of all people?

_Yeah._

_Don't answer my thoughts, Potter! Stop listening in the first place when we're not even in a formal lesson, for fuck's sake._ So much for saving some embarrassment. He was beyond humiliated. There wasn't really any moving past this-

Before Draco could really get into his pity party, everything had that hazy red glow again.

He was seeing Harry's toned torso once more, the now slightly quickened rise and fall of his breathing. Those tantalizing hipbones, that swelling at his trousers... Wait.

Draco felt himself swallow back in his own body.

Harry Potter was hard.

Harry Potter was _very_ hard, it was Draco's fault, and he was _showing_ him.

And oh Merlin, he was reaching down, this time not cutting off the mental image before he stroked himself over his nightclothes. The Slytherin could see the outlined curve of Harry's cock as it strained up against the fabric, eagerly meeting his hand as he squeezed lightly. Fuck.

“Meet me,” Draco flinched at Harry's ragged whisper, this time sounding like he was in the very room instead of just in his head. “Second floor girls' lavatory.”

The blonde couldn't believe what he was hearing. _Isn't there a bloody peeping-tom ghost in there? And where the hell do you get off thinking I'm going to meet up with you for a late-night rendezvous just because of one unintentional thought?_

Harry ignored his protests. “If you want me- which you do- I'll be there. Come find me.”

Once again, Draco found himself back in his own bed, in his own dormitory.

But he wouldn't be there for long.

 


	2. Dark Hole

Creeping silently along the corridors (provided the thudding of his heart wasn't audible to anyone but him), Draco cursed himself for being such an easy target.

He did suppose this was exactly why he had accepted Harry's offer in the first place. Draco knew he was strong, to a degree. He himself had experienced what he felt was well more than a lifetime of self-restraint, mental anguish, and secret-guarding. But this was probably a part of what had him feeling weaker as of lately.

As if the strain of his problems had weakened the very foundation of his mind, Draco found himself dying to spill out even the smallest of secrets to anyone who was close enough to him to ask. Now that his current private matters were no longer a life-or-death situation, what was there really to lose beyond a bit of dignity? That might have stopped him once upon a time, however with the downfall of Voldemort and the reveal of his family's involvement in his resurrection into power, Draco found himself with no dignity to preserve whatsoever. So this “nothing to lose” mantra was the line of thought his brain seemed to operate on as of lately. However, it seemed this lowering of social guard had inadvertently lowered his mental guard in the process.

Now while Draco _didn't_ have anything worth concealing in a legal sense, there were still plenty of details that had not been expressed to the public after Voldemort had perished and the government was realigning itself. Plenty of scraps of information those who doubted his innocence would love to sink their claws into, twist into whatever story that pleased them, and further ostracize himself and his mother entirely from the wizarding community. He learned this the hard way- an incident that just so happened to be the catalyst to his Occlumency lessons in the first place.

Draco had found himself being blackmailed.

-

It had been a relatively pleasant trip to Hogsmeade; Draco was taking a leisurely walk in a mildly-segregated courtyard. A witch or wizard whose features were modified until they were unrecognizable- so much that they barely appeared to be a person, in fact- approached the blond so quietly and calmly, only to show him flashes of his own memories. Discussion of his induction into the cult of the Death Eaters, promises he had made, intentions he had vocalized (whether they were true or not didn't matter).

“That's just a preview, boy,” their voice grated into him, seemingly modified and distorted to match what could be called their face, as they lifted a mangled hand to tap their head. “Plenty more up 'ere.”

Draco was lucky they had only wanted a piece of his family's fortune. All he had to do, this stranger proposed, was give him five hundred thousand Galleons, and he would obliviate his own memories of Draco's mind, and leave him be. To be fair, it wasn't really a well-thought out plan, and at this point he didn't believe this person was even working with anyone. It probably would have been pretty simple to take care of the situation on his own, with a few threats here or there. But Draco was scared.

So yes, he had been lucky they only wanted money, but he had been even luckier that none other than Harry Potter himself had stumbled into Draco's unfortunate situation.

“Obliviate,” his voice came from behind the stranger, along with a bright flash. Draco's already pounding heart practically leapt out of his chest. The stranger's features relaxed into something a bit less terrifying and they wandered off, clearly not a clue where they were or what they were doing.

Green eyes met blue, but neither spoke immediately.

“P-Potter- is that okay? How did you know what was going on? Why are you even here?” Draco spluttered, breaking the silence as soon as he noticed it was there. He crossed his arms protectively against his chest as he tried to spit out the questions that had begun flying around his head like an enchanted broomstick as soon as he was able to think again.

The Gryffindor was quick on the uptake. “Was that entire situation okay to you, Malfoy? It's not every day someone comes into Hogsmeade transfigured like that, and you looked paler than a sheet. I listened, I took a glimpse into their thoughts, and I took care of your problem. Saved you a pretty knut in the process.”

He seemed so relaxed, slipping his wand into his coat and leaning casually against a nearby statue. Draco couldn't help but simultaneously be jealous of and mildly impressed by such a display of composure, while he himself stood shaking like a cornered rodent.

“Anyway, I was just out for a walk. I like to clear my head once in a while,” Harry continued, “And they'll be just fine, by the way, if you were curious. They're not going to remember why they're here, who they've spoken to, or what they found in your mind.”

He shot Draco a very pointed look with his last statement. There was a mutual understanding between the two that the Slytherin hadn't really had as much of a choice as Harry on whose side to take. Draco knew this, however he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, especially not with how Harry was looking at him.

“You should really be more concerned with how easy it was for them to access your less savoury memories, Malfoy.”

Oh. That's what the look was for.

“How did you get to be so good at that sort of thing?” Draco already knew the answer, cursing himself as soon as the question left his mouth. He had only wanted to say something, anything, instead of just standing there like a fool. Of course he'd asked the most obvious question in the world.

“I had to.” Harry didn't seem too bothered- his reply wasn't cruel, just matter-of-fact. The blond was thankful for that. “It worked both ways, so I guess I've had a lot of practice with both.”

“Both?” Draco was confused. He didn't really know everything about what it was Harry was practicing.

Harry's expression molded itself into one of puzzlement, and when he spoke it seemed like it was partially to himself rather than strictly to Draco. “You don't know? I would have thought anyone in Voldemort's inner circle would have to be well-practiced in Occlumency, at minimum. Occlumency being the art of protecting your mind, that is.”

Draco winced, feeling his face coming to a deep flush. “I wouldn't say I was part of any 'inner circle', but no, he obviously wanted some semblance of control over all of us. That sort of thing would go directly against the kind of power he wanted, wouldn't it.”

“Sorry.” Harry seemed genuine, though it was a short apology. Draco couldn't begrudge him for it, really. It's not as if he was entirely off the mark. “Legilimency is what I was using; it's the counterpart to Occlumency, essentially the ability to read minds. I only use it if I feel like I need to.”

Draco nodded, and silence fell over the two once more. He looked to the ground, not really sure what to say next. He felt like the Gryffindor wanted to say something else, but he wasn't really sure how to ask if his feeling was right. And if it was, it could be anything, really. Truth be told, this was one of the first proper conversations the two had actually had in private after everything happened.

“I can teach you.” For the first time in the conversation, Harry seemed a little bit awkward. “I mean, if you want. It's important, and there's a good chance next time someone tries anything like this, I won't be around.”

Draco nearly scoffed. He didn't need Harry to protect him “next time”, like some kind of knight in shining armour.

Suddenly, Harry let a laugh slip out, eyes widening as he tried to pass it off as a cough.

Wait, was he..?

“'I only use if it I need to', how fucking dare you, Potter.” Draco spat as he felt his cheeks burn once again, this time feeling a flash of anger alongside the humiliation. “Have you been listening to my thoughts this whole time?”

Harry's laugh exploded out full on, and he lifted his hands as if surrendering. It made Draco even angrier that the sound of the laugh had made him feel a bit strange.

“I haven't, I swear. It's only fair if I tell you- I just got a bit nervous after I asked, I couldn't read your face. I've no clue what you've been thinking throughout all of this, Malfoy, I promise.”

Draco believed him, but only because his last warm thought towards his former rival would have undoubtedly been noticed and picked apart if he had been lying. “Fine. But what's in this for you, anyway? Why do you want to do this for me? It's not like I'm the only person in the world who could use a little help with guarding secrets.”

Harry paused, the laughter on his face turning into something more serious. “I just... I don't know. I feel like I get all the focus after what happened last year, and I feel like you might need some of that care too.”

Feeling conflicted, Draco opened his mouth to speak once more but was interrupted.

“And I don't pity you, before you think it,” Harry stated plainly, “I just think there are a lot of ways that we're alike, and that you would benefit from the help that I got when I needed it, because I think you need it too. Think about it, Draco.”

Not giving the bewildered blond a chance to speak, the Gryffindor offered a genuine smile before apparating elsewhere with a _pop_.

For once, Draco didn't feel so bad at not getting another word in, however. He had a feeling Harry might just have been a bit embarrassed and surprised by himself, too.

-

Before he knew it, with heavy realization, Draco had reached his destination. He had been thinking back to the start of this ordeal so intensely he hadn't even noticed how close he was to the girls' lavatory.

Now, in all honesty, he didn't really think this was something Harry had planned upon offering him the Occlumency lessons, no. Though others who didn't know him too well might assume otherwise, he wasn't so self-centered that he would think week after week of mildly uncomfortable and more-than-mildly intimate self-defense sessions were a ploy for the Gryffindor to get him into bed. If there was one thing to know about his previous enemy, after everything that went down and how much he had risked (and lost), it was that he was truly a selfless individual who cared more about other people than he should. It irritated Draco to admit it, but Harry really was a good person, at least at a base level.

That almost made the fact that he was still an absolute prick even more unbearable.

Yet still, Draco found himself taking a deep breath and stepping into the washroom to meet the aforementioned prick.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Draco squinted into the darkness of the lavatory. No Potter in sight. It seemed his only company was the leaky tap that greeted him upon his entrance.

He pulled his wand out, lighting the tip with little more than a faint whisper of “lumos”.

For a mostly abandoned washroom, there was plenty of water on the floor. As Draco stepped up to take a look at himself in one of the mirrors, his sneakers made soft wet slaps against the marble flooring.

He groaned the second he saw his reflection looking back at him. His usually slicked-back hair was a mess. Shortly before attempting to go to bed, he'd jumped in the shower, planning to sleep on it and deal with whatever disaster he faced the next day. However, that clearly hadn't happened, and too much rolling around in bed at the thought of Harry had left him with slightly-damp hair that was falling messily over his forehead, just barely reaching his eyes.

Draco reached to turn one of the taps on the sink in front of him, tracing his finger lightly over a design he felt on it beforehand. Moving the light of his wand down to the sink, he noticed it was a small snake. Huh. Clearly this place had been designed by a fellow Slytherin- perhaps Salazar himself, if it hadn't been modified since the school founder's days?

Dipping his fingers lightly into the cool water that began to flow from the tap, Draco rustled them through his hair. He returned his wand to the mirror and couldn't help but laugh at the sight. His hair, though much thinner, couldn't have been more closely “styled” to Harry's if he had tried. It wasn't that bad of a look, to be fair, on Draco that was. His hair now only loosely fell into his forehead, semi-swept back by the additional moisture. Still messy, but it would do.

“You should wear it like that more often,” a voice suddenly sounded against his ear, causing him to practically jump out of his skin. “Looks nothing like mine, though.”

Draco whipped around, swiping a hand immediately in front of him, trying to close it on anything he could grab.

_Ha!_ He managed to grab hold of what he knew was Harry's invisibility cloak, pulling it off of him in one swift motion.

Fuck. Big mistake.

The Gryffindor looked... Well, hot was a pretty mild way of putting it. Draco hadn't seen him look this way before, definitely not. Harry's eyes looked almost black in the low-lighting, his pupils practically overtaking his iris entirely. Something about the colour gave them such depth, it made the blond's stomach swirl. But there was something more than their colour. They were overtaken by want. And that's what really had Draco feeling like he could melt on the spot.

“Nox,” Harry whispered, inches from Draco's face, extinguishing the only light in the room. The dripping of the tap continued behind them, undisturbed by the sudden closeness of the two boys.

“W-wait,” Draco stuttered, feeling Harry move in closer, almost bringing their lips together. He could feel Harry's hot breath mingling with his own. “Myrtle? I'd rather not do, uh, anything, not with her watching. You know she is.”

Harry smirked. “Not an exhibitionist?”

“Shut up.”

“Lucky for you, me neither. Hold on.”

Draco watched Harry in confusion as he stepped away, turning to one of the sinks in the middle of the lavatory. The Slytherin barely registered Harry winking at him in the darkness before an unfortunately familiar, inhuman hissing sound made its way out of the boy. A steady rumbling erupted throughout the bathroom, and Draco bounded backwards to avoid the sink/mirror combination that started sliding across the floor towards him.

“What the fuck, Potter?”

“Just wait.”

But Draco didn't have to wait. He knew what was happening the instant it started- he'd just had absolutely no idea it was _here_. That fact was heavily guarded by the school after their second year- and apparently by Harry, too, as its location had never been leaked.

When the rumbling finally settled, Harry made his way back to Draco with a pleased smirk, cocking his head in the direction of a hole in the ground where the sinks were just moments ago. “You first?”

“You've got to be fucking kidding me,” Draco breathed. He looked away from Harry for just a moment to glance down at what looked like a bottomless pit.

“Might've been.”

Harry took a few steps towards the hole, causing Draco to leap forwards and grab him by the wrist before he could get too close.

“Are you sure it's safe?” It embarrassed him, but the Slytherin couldn't hold back the worry in his voice.

Harry turned slowly, curling his fingers back to brush the tips against Draco's wrist, sending a chill up the blond's spine.

“Wha-”

Draco felt himself being led, more so gently pushed, backwards until his back hit a cool wall, a dull thud sounding through the bathroom. Harry slid his wrist out of Draco's grip to slide his hand against his waist, under his shirt. The other rose to caress the boy's cheek, giving him only a second to think before Harry pressed his lips against Draco's own slightly parted ones.

Draco absolutely melted. He pushed back against Harry, gasping lightly into their kiss, trying not to be overtaken by the feelings rushing through him. He could feel the cold metal of Harry's glasses against his upper cheek, but he didn't care. His hands rose up so he could tangle his fingers in the other boy's jet black hair, pulling him closer into an open-mouthed kiss.

The silence of the room itself was amplifying the wet sounds the two's mouths made against one another to an almost unbearable volume. It was humiliating, but fine, Draco supposed, if it meant he got to _do_ this. That was, until they slowed for a second, enough time for Harry to lightly brush his tongue against the blond's, pulling a surprised moan from him that echoed lightly through the lavatory.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!_

Harry laughed lightly into the kiss, pulling himself away and leaving Draco to pant against the wall, completely overwhelmed by what had just happened.

“For the love of fuck, stop reading my thoughts, it's bloody embarrassing,” Draco all but whined, trying to compose himself.

Harry shrugged. “I didn't. I just thought you were cute. Guess I should have, though.”

Draco could have died of embarrassment, but there wasn't time for that. He needed more, more of Harry, and he needed it now. He tried to take another step towards the Gryffindor, but Harry shook his head, tsk-ing lightly.

“Come find out how safe it is.” He referred to Draco's fears, not giving him another second to react before he took a few quick steps to the hole and promptly slid down.

“Oh, fuck me.” Draco whined, a bit too literally, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.

He paced around for a moment, unsure of what to do. It didn't take long for a rather impatient Harry to call him down.

_Better not be wanking to me up there. At least come do that down here where I can watch._

Draco didn't dignify Harry with a reply. Instead, taking a deep breath, he sat down with his legs in the hole and counted to three before letting himself slip down after his companion.

On his way down, just barely, Draco could swear he heard rather mad, high-pitched giggling coming from above.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I planned on this being a PWP sort of thing, but I'm really having fun with it. Hope you all are too!


	3. Founding Father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go lol.

When Draco reached the bottom of the tunnel, he landed with a _thud_ in a rather crunchy, disgusting pile of old bones. At least that's what he guessed it was. Or rather hoped, because realistically, what down here could be _better_ than a pile of old bones? Not much, he presumed.

“Very sexy.” He commented dryly, shooting a rather unimpressed look over to a smirking Harry in the corner.

“Sexier than a lavatory, at least?”

“Hardly. You really aren't the type to care much about location, are you.”

Harry laughed, walking over to Draco and extending a hand in assistance. “It's more about the journey than the destination, I suppose. Or the journey that comes once we've reached the destination.”

Draco rolled his eyes and lifted himself up on his own. “And to think moments ago, I might have been a little bit turned on by you.”

Laughing once more, Harry casually withdrew his hand without a shred of acknowledgement of the blond's snubbing. He turned his back on Draco and cocked his head towards a dark tunnel, beginning to walk towards it without any consultation on the matter. “Gods, it must've been someone else's thoughts I was reading then, thinking about how they wished it was me pulling their hair instead of-”

Harry's voice was cut off by the sound of Draco choking rather loudly on his own saliva.

“J-just shut up and lead the way,” the blond eventually managed to gasp out, “I'm just having so much fun already, I don't know if I could handle the joy of having you humiliate me more than you have so far.”

Flashing another (obnoxious, in Draco's opinion) grin, Harry ceased his torment of the Slytherin, at least temporarily.

The two of them descended further down into the tunnel, eventually starting to take careful steps around precariously placed rocks and boulders. Harry took gentle hold of Draco's arm to offer stability, something that (to Draco, at least) painfully obviously didn't cease once they reached more even ground. To the Slytherin's immense embarrassment, Harry's hand made its way back down to his wrist, and eventually tentatively to the Draco's own hand, lacing their fingers together as they walked.

At this point, Draco felt like a blushing schoolgirl. It was silly, but something as simple as handholding had the ability to send his stomach into a series of mild acrobatics. Not at all in a bad way, either.

After what seemed like far too much time, they had reached a smooth, tiled flooring. The feeling of flat land under his feet compared to the previously rocky, uneven terrain was a relief to Draco. The air at the end of the tunnel had an interesting quality to it- it was thick and damp, but not quite foul like he expected.

“Come on,” Harry pulled gently at the blond's hand, leading him into the opening that had appeared ahead of them.

Draco couldn't believe his eyes once he noticed what lay in front of him. Once they stepped further into the light he realized the tiling was a path of deep emerald-coloured stone. On either side was a peaceful, quiet current of water so black in appearance (likely due to the tiling) that Draco couldn't hope to see the bottom. Every meter or so along the edge of the path there was a marvelous sculpture of a snake, mirrored on the other side of the walkway without fail.

But the sights were nothing in comparison to what lay at the source of the light. Beyond the mouth of the tunnel there was a magnificent cavern, at the end of which was a rather massive marble head, which Draco could easily assume was the likeness of Salazar Slytherin himself. The mouth of the statue gaped open in a silent scream, which while it struck Draco with awe, it once again wasn't a setting that left him feeling particularly “in the mood”.

“Potter, this is-” he began to speak, but was quickly silenced by two of Harry's fingers pressing gently against his lips.

“I know, it's a bit much.” Harry confessed, looking a bit sheepish. In the limited lighting of the cavern, Draco noted, his eyes were so dark they almost looked completely black. It caught the blond off guard that he found them so alluring, even in a place like this. “I just wanted to be somewhere completely private where nobody could possibly intrude.”

Draco nodded, pulling Harry's hands away from his mouth gently and leaning in to press a slow, gentle kiss against the other boy's lips. It was those eyes, he swore. With those looking back at him, he could easily pretend there wasn't a gigantic creepy statue watching them with pupil-less eyes from a distance.

Harry's immediate response, which was one of surprise, was whisked away in an instant as he parted his lips slightly against Draco's.

This time was different. It was slower, it was almost... romantic.

The blond pressed his slender body up to Harry's firmer one, laying one hand against the side of the Gryffindor's neck and the other at his bicep. He smirked into the kiss as he felt Harry shudder.

_Like it when I'm sensual, do you, Potter?_

Draco found himself backed up once more, struggling to maintain the kiss as the two walked together until he once again made contact with a wall. He gasped lightly, leaving an opening for Harry to swoop in once again and slide his tongue against Draco's.

_Just as much as you like my tongue._ Harry drawled teasingly back into Draco's mind. Of course he had been listening.

_We can play dirty all you want._ Draco wasn't going to let himself be pushed around- not all night, at least.

He moved his hand from Harry's neck into his coarse black hair, grabbing a handful of it and pushing back against Harry's lips with intensity. A gasp made its way from between Harry's lips into their kiss, and Draco couldn't help but lightly pull the other boy's lower lip between his teeth before brushing their tongues together once more.

And with that, Harry slid his hand down and cupped his hand against Draco's trousers. He was already half-hard, but the pressure of Harry's hand against him made the blond feel as if he'd just been set on fire. He broke the kiss, not pushing Harry away but looking into his eyes nervously.

“I, uh. I don't want our first time- you know, like everything- to be down here.” He admitted a thought that had only just come to him in the moment. One he didn't even know he wanted to let out, but there it was.

To his relief, Harry smiled kindly in response, giving him a teasing squeeze.

“'Like everything'? So, you're not saying 'no', you just don't want to get fucked by me in front of one of the school's founders. That what you're saying, Malfoy?”

Draco flushed at the words. And probably at the hand on his cock, too. “Okay, grand assumption _Potter_ , but yes, that's what I'm saying. Merlin, you're embarrassing.”

Harry smirked and shrugged in acceptance. “Right back at you. You're a handful, too.”

Before he could say anything else, Harry silenced him with one last slow kiss before moving to his neck, sucking lightly at the tender skin just long enough to leave a faint mark. He moved on quickly, caressing Draco's body lightly with his free hand as he brought himself to his knees.

“Are you-”

Draco didn't even have long enough to get his question out before it was answered. Harry brought his mouth to the blond's clothed cock, now fully hard, and breathed hot against it through the fabric. Shuddering, Draco put a hand gently on the top of Harry's head, and brought the other to cover his mouth. The mental image of Harry Potter himself, on his knees, mouthing against Draco... it was almost too much to bear. It certainly wasn't one he- or his erection- were going to forget anytime soon.

_It's only gonna get better from here, too._

“Please,” Draco whined, not offering any specifics. At this point he wasn't sure if it was in response to what Harry had just “said” to him, or the fact that he was listening to his thoughts again. Probably both.

Regardless of meaning, the Gryffindor took it as a request, and looked up to meet Draco's eyes as he moved his hands to the blond's waistband.

“Can I?” He breathed against him, out loud this time, so that Draco felt the vibrations of his speech through his trousers. Draco nodded quickly, biting a finger and looking away from the other boy as quickly as he could.

Harry didn't waste any time, loosening the knot of the drawstring, slipping Draco's sleep clothes down around his ankles. His cock was almost that more at attention now that it was a few millimeters of fabric closer to the black haired boy's mouth. Only seconds later would it have what it desperately wanted, as Harry swiftly pulled down Draco's briefs, letting it spring up and slap lightly against his cheek.

“Oh, gods.” Draco couldn't believe his eyes. He shouldn't have looked down, it was bad enough that he had just unintentionally cock-slapped _Harry fucking Potter_ but he had to _see_ it, too.

“I never took you as a religious man,” Harry commented slyly, looking up at Draco once more as he took the other boy's warm shaft into his hand and rubbed the tip of his cock teasingly against his lips. He didn't seem bothered in the slightest.

“I'm not. Please, for once, shut up.” The blond begged.

“Consider me shut up.”

Draco returned his hand to his mouth just in time for Harry to lick him once, slowly, just over the blond's head. They held their gaze for a second more before he pulled it into his mouth completely, sliding his tongue along the underside of Draco's swollen cock.

“Fuck,” Draco breathed, his eyes rolling back into his head. He could feel Harry begin to work over him, sliding his hand along the part of Draco's shaft that he couldn't quite comfortably reach with his mouth. His mouth was so hot, so wet, and fuck. He opened his eyes again to look down and see Harry bobbing gently at his hips, dragging his lips along the blond's length and sucking lightly when he slid over the tip.

_You're so good, fuck, Harry._

Harry suddenly pulled off of the Slytherin with a wet 'pop', catching him off guard. “Say it out loud.”

“Wh-”

“Just do it, Draco. Don't hold yourself back- I want to hear you moan my name with your cock in my mouth. Please.”

Draco's cock twitched. Without waiting to hear back, Harry returned to his duty of licking along Draco's hard-on. Teasing the underside of the tip with just his tongue, he pulled a loud moan out of the blond.

“Harry...” Draco trailed off shyly, pushing Harry's head lightly into his hips until the other boy put his mouth over the length once more. He needed more, that warmth, so hot and slippery he could die. Taking yet another peek he saw the Gryffindor was massaging his own erection over his trousers below, and that was all he could take.

“Fuck, Potter... Harry, it feels so good, I'm gonna cum, gods I can't stop it, I'm gonna-!”

He babbled incomprehensibly as Harry pulled back and worked his hand over the blond's length, pressing his tongue into the slit and grinning all the while.

White-hot heat spread through Draco's body and his cock pulsated once, twice, before starting to shoot. The blond moaned deeply as cum spilled over the Gryffindor's tongue and lips while he licked, then sucking the head, getting as much of it as he could into his mouth before Draco slumped against the wall and slid down to the floor with him, breathing heavily.

_Open your eyes, Draco._ Harry's voice itself rang heavy through Draco's mind, and he cracked his eyes open, covering his face with both hands in embarrassment.

But Harry. Oh, fuck, Harry had his own hard cock out in the open now. He winked at Draco before opening his mouth, sticking out his tongue lazily, and letting the blond's cum slide out and over his member. It was so lewd Draco could barely handle it, his spent cock twitching weakly at the sight.

It didn't take long before Harry himself was starting to breathe hard, twisting his hand over his erection with the mixture of his saliva and Draco's cum as a lubricant. Draco couldn't do much but watch in awe as Harry thrust rhythmically on his knees into his own hand, making eye contact with the blond briefly before throwing his head back.

“Draco, fuck!” He shouted as his cock erupted with white liquid, spraying across the both of them in not one, not two, but _five_ separate shots.

“Merlin, Harry...” Draco whispered, slapping a hand across his mouth in shock.

Harry pulled his head back upright, opening his eyes slowly to see a thoroughly cum-splattered Draco, and let out a weak laugh. Looking down at himself, Draco joined him in a near-intoxicated-feeling glee.

“Holy shit,” the Gryffindor spoke raggedly, clearing his throat.

“Holy shit is right,” Draco shook his head, pulling his clothes back up over his hips and reaching into his pocket to grab his wand. With a few quick spells, he cleaned the both of them off, returning his wand to his pocket when he was done.

“What, you didn't want to sit here covered in my-”

“Shutting up hasn't stopped yet.” Draco cut the Gryffindor off before he could say anything awful, reluctantly breaking into a grin. “Now how the hell are we going to get out of here?”

Harry took on that sheepish expression once more and began to play with his hair suspiciously.

“What.” Amusement quickly drained from Draco's face.

“You fancy a phoenix ride?”

He had to be joking. But somehow, _somehow_ , Draco knew he wasn't.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I've ever actually genuinely written non-jerking off porn before so? I hope you all enjoyed! Once again, feedback in the comments is very welcome. :)


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